


A Handful of Silver Lining

by LadyNimrodel



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, Fix-It, M/M, Thorin is a Softie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNimrodel/pseuds/LadyNimrodel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin worships Bilbo during sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Handful of Silver Lining

**Author's Note:**

> The idea that Thorin would be in awe of Bilbo and would worship him during sex has been bouncing around on tumblr and I wanted to write it ;)))

In the warm, golden lights of the lamps, Bilbo is beautiful. 

Thorin has never seen anyone or anything as beautiful as Bilbo is right now. 

Not even the Arkenstone while he was in the clutches of the dragon sickness nor the grand sight of the cavernous treasure room filled with a sea of gold. Not the way the Lonely Mountain proudly jutted up over the sprawling forest when they stood upon the Carrock, nor the way the hidden gate had opened and given him his first glimpse into his home after so many years in exile. 

None of that, not a single one, stirred his soul the way Bilbo does now. 

His lovely burglar, spread upon Thorin’s fine sheets, hair golden and bright, bare skin soft and inviting. His dark eyes are nearly black and his lips plump and red from being kissed over and over. When Bilbo smiles at him, a soft, curling thing, Thorin touches its corners as the air is arrested briefly in his lungs. Ah, Mahal, that smile. He would relocate the entirety of Erebor, mountain and all, to the other side of Middle Earth if it meant he could keep that smile. Helplessly, he leans in and licks where his fingers were, tongue sliding into the sweet corners of Bilbo’s mouth. 

The taste he finds there has become blessedly familiar over the past couple months and yet it sends a thrill down his spine like it is the first time. If he could, he would stay there forever, licking patiently and insistently into Bilbo’s willing mouth. But clever fingers wind into his hair, tugging persistently and he pulls away with a sigh. 

“Thorin, come on,” Bilbo whispers, eyes shining. The rough sound of his voice makes Thorin’s blood run hot.

“Patience, Ghivashel,” he murmurs even as he reaches into Bilbo’s curls and rubs at the tips of his ears. The way Bilbo’s breath catches and his back arches is lovely beyond reason. Thorin only stops when Bilbo is flushed all the way down his chest and his short, fat cock is dripping onto his belly. 

“So close,” he moans, tossing his golden head upon the pillows. There have been a few times he’s made Bilbo come just from that. Like that one time where he’d been passing Bilbo in a smaller, lesser used hall and had hauled him into an alcove to take him apart completely by just rubbing the pointed tips of his ears. What a sight Bilbo had made, boneless against the stone wall, flushed and sweaty from pleasure. Thorin could do that now, if he wished. But instead he sits back on his heels, watching as Bilbo comes back down from the edge. When his eyes flutter open, they are shiny and black. 

With unsteady hands, Thorin reaches for the jar of oil that waits upon the sheets by Bilbo’s hip, feeling completely out of control when plump thighs open for him. Gently, he tries to remind himself. Even if the way Bilbo breathes is eager and the way he spreads his legs is oh so inviting. Bilbo deserves to be worshipped, to have every inch of him kissed and stroked until he knows just how much Thorin adores him. 

He drips oil carefully onto his fingers before discarding the jar upon the sheets. 

Yet even as he works a finger into Bilbo’s body _(tight, hot, tighttighttight)_ he kisses the insides of Bilbo’s knees, his thighs, sucking gently around soft skin. At either side of his head, Bilbo’s legs tremble and his hands catch at Thorin’s hair. A glance upwards reveals flushed cheeks and eyelashes laying heavily upon them as Bilbo gasps with pleasure. 

How did he get so lucky, Thorin wonders in a daze, crooking his finger just there and sucking plump balls into his mouth. So lucky, to have Bilbo thrashing under his fingers and lips, so lucky to be the one to kiss him and hold him and fuck him. So lucky to be the one to drink in his bright smiles, his gentle voice when he sings, his grumpy moods and bright laughter. So lucky to love Bilbo Baggins so completely and have him love Thorin in return. 

His own fingers tremble when he adds another to the tight clutch of Bilbo’s arse. This time, when he looks up Bilbo’s body with the leaking tip of Bilbo’s cock upon his tongue, he takes in the curve of his belly and the peaks of his nipples, the redness of his lips and the dark glitter of his eyes, Thorin is overcome with the breathless sensation of awe. 

With the taste of salty pre-cum heavy on his lips and his fingers pressing deep into Bilbo’s body, he stares down at his hobbit in breathless worship. 

“Thorin,” Bilbo moans and it is barely a thread of sound. It is enough, though, to light a fire under his skin, to make his own cock twitch and leak where it presses against his belly. Carefully, gently, he pulls his fingers free, drops kisses over Bilbo’s soft belly, licks at the hair at the base of his cock and runs hands around his flank to grab two handfuls of round arse cheeks. It makes Bilbo laugh, especially when Thorin dips his tongue into his belly button but laughter quickly turns to a low, hungry sound when Thorin slicks himself up and presses the tip of his cock to Bilbo’s wet, waiting hole. 

Thorin whispers devotion into his ears as he eases in, the tight vise of Bilbo’s body opening for him willingly.

Awe and love fill his chest, fill him to bursting, until he thinks his very heart will stop with the intensity of it. When he is all the way in, he pauses, trembling, and stares down at Bilbo with wide eyes. 

Bilbo stares back, a small smile curling on his lips. 

“What is it?” he asks softly, hands clutching Thorin’s wrists where he still holds Bilbo’s hips and flank. At a loss, Thorin shakes his head. He is overwhelmed with it, with this hot amazement that this is his, that he can have this. Despite having been courting Bilbo for months and sharing a bed with him for weeks, the feeling hasn’t diminished. In fact, every time they touch, it just gets stronger. Caught in the warm darkness of Bilbo’s gaze, he finds himself embarrassingly open and helpless. 

“I…” he swallows, his cock throbbing in the clench of tightness and heat and he bows his head in order to put together his thoughts, “I still cannot believe that I…that you are here. That I love you so much…” he cuts off when Bilbo gives a small twist of his hips, closing his eyes tightly against the sudden assault of pleasure. Then his hair, spread over Bilbo’s chest, is tugged gently and he opens his eyes to find Bilbo looking at him with a expression both fond and impatient. 

“Try getting rid of me now, Thorin Oakenshield,” he rasps, teeth sharp inside of the flash of his grin and the words burn between them like a promise. He goes when Bilbo holds his arms out to him, lets himself be held in the loop of his arms and the cradle of his hips. Bilbo turns his head, nipping at the golden clasp on Thorin’s ear and whispers, “Now fuck me.” 

Thorin does. 

He moves. Like waves blown ashore by a storm, they move together, friction sparking like lightening where they are joined, breathing hurricanes into each other’s mouths. 

Though the pleasure is intense, curling in the pit of his stomach and at the base of his spine with just a few strokes, he watches Bilbo’s eyes, lets them anchor him. Nails scrape down his back and teeth leave marks on his neck and he shivers with the pain. It’s good pain, heightening the pleasure until he doesn't know which way is up or down, until he cannot even remember his own name. All he knows is Bilbo, the heat of him swallowing his cock again and again, the way their sweaty bellies slide together and how their hands and lips touch and bite and sooth. 

They are a storm but they are worshipping too. 

And Thorin never once looks away, never breaks the connection of their eyes. 

But even this cannot last forever, no matter how he would like it to, and the friction becomes too much, the pleasure blinding. Bilbo finally tosses his head back, voice low and broken when he cries out. His limbs shake and Thorin will undoubtedly have some spectacular scratches on his back but it is nothing to the way Bilbo comes, with a beautiful abandon that steals Thorin’s breath. Wetness spreads between them and Bilbo’s arse tightens again and again with his orgasm. 

It’s too much. 

Thorin buries his face in Bilbo’s sweaty neck and the rush overtakes him, stealing away his senses until it is nothing but shuddering pleasure, hot and all-encompassing. 

He shakes in the aftermath, pressing Bilbo into the bed with his weight but he cannot move. Coming down is sweet, lassitude weighing down his limbs and the lingering of pleasure curling through his entire body. When he licks his lips, he can taste the salt of Bilbo’s sweat. 

“You’re heavy,” Bilbo finally grumbles, pushing at Thorin’s shoulders and he pulls away with regret. But before he can slide off the bed so he might clean them up, Bilbo catches his arm and tugs him back. His eyes, still impossibly dark, are heavy and they look at Thorin with love burning in their depths. Not caring for the mess, he crawls back over Bilbo, straddling his hips and leaning over him so the curtain if his hair cuts them off from the rest of the world. Bilbo tastes like sunlight when they kiss, tongues curling languidly over teeth and lips. He is smiling up at Thorin when they part, “You seem a little different tonight.” Though he does not make it a question, Thorin can hear it in his voice. Tenderly, he brushes a sweaty curl from Bilbo’s forehead. 

“Do I?” he whispers, kissing the tip of Bilbo’s nose then each corner of his eyes, “Perhaps it is only that I love you more every day and that is why I seem different,” he pulls back a little with a smile and finds Bilbo staring at him with wide eyes and a red blush spreading from the tips of his lovely ears down to his neck. Then, before Thorin can react, he is being slammed in the face with a pillow and pushed onto the bed, where Bilbo precedes to hit him with the pillow over and over. 

“That was hideously corny!” Bilbo cries, bright with embarrassment and Thorin laughs helplessly as he half-heartedly fends off the fluffy assault, “What in Eru’s name possessed you to say something like that?” A couple more hits, a few escaped feathers, and finally Thorin catches Bilbo’s wrists, stilling his sudden violent outbreak. Breathless from laughter, Thorin grins up at him, enjoying the redness of his cheeks and his disgruntled frown. 

“It is only the truth,” he responds, admiring the way Bilbo’s skin glows in the firelight. He pretends to miss the way Bilbo’s eyes track over his body, a spark of interest peeking out around his frown. Finally Bilbo huffs and flops back down onto the bed, hiding his face in the pillow. Thorin cannot resist running a possessive hand over the curve of his bare arse. 

“You’re horrible,” Bilbo mutters but doesn’t complain when Thorin curls around him, arm over his back and leg over his thighs, and tucks the blankets around their shoulders. 

“I know,” he rumbles agreeably, once again feeling heavy as exhaustion settles over him. There is a long moment of stillness and then Bilbo turns into Thorin, face pressing into his shoulder and hands finding his hair. 

“I love you,” the words are soft and raspy and they fill Thorin with joy. He smiles sleepily and presses his nose into Bilbo’s hair. 

“I know,” he whispers. He knows Bilbo does not do well with sappy declarations of love outside the heat of sex but he’d been unable to help himself. Thorin vows, as he slowly drifts into sleep, to come up with as many sappy lines as possible because Bilbo is a sight to behold when he’s flustered. 

Thorin holds him tightly through the night and their hearts beat in the same steady rhythm all the while.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me on tumblr at lament-for-nimrodel.tumblr.com!!!


End file.
